A different waiter stopped by to take their orders, which seemed to hit reset on the mood at the table. When he left, Joe tried to turn that somber mood around by reaching for Mia’s hand and giving it a squeeze with an upbeat “Maybe this is a good time to share your news, honey.”
Rafe’s gaze snapped up from his glass, wondering what else he didn’t know about her life. “News” when said like that meant big news. Like she was getting a promotion. Or buying a house. Or getting married. Dread pinched his gut.
“Sure, why not?” Mia said with a stiff smile. “I…took a new job.”
Rafe released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “I thought you loved your job.”
“I do. I mean, I did. But it was an apprenticeship that was coming to an end and I got a really amazing offer I couldn’t turn down.” She picked up her glass and sipped. “It’s time for me to move on.”
Somehow, Rafe got the impression she was talking about more than her job. “You already quit your old job?”
“Yep. Thought I’d come see you guys between jobs, though that hasn’t turned out to be as pleasant as I’d expected.”
“Is it for the same designer? The same company?” Tate asked.
“No.” The way she paused to take a deep drink of her wine gave Rafe a bad feeling. “New company.”
Rafe glanced at Joe, who was grinning like an idiot, then asked Mia, “Why are we having to pull this out of you?”
She pressed her forearms to the table and cradled the bowl of her wineglass in her palms, her long slim fingers spreading out over the globe. Hands that had touched every inch of his body in unforgettable ways. Hands he hadn’t stopped craving since that night.
“Because she’s making a big move,” Joe said for her. “And I’m guessing by the way you two have been acting the last few days, she’s not particularly eager to tell you about it.”
“Why wouldn’t we be excited about a big move for her?” Tate asked. “Is it more money?”
“No,” Rafe said, drawing Mia’s eyes. His gut went cold. “It’s not for the money. At least that’s not why she’s holding back, is it, Mia?”
She held Rafe’s gaze for a long moment, confirming he was right. Then she looked at Tate and said, “The job’s in California.”
California? Shock pierced Rafe’s gut.
“What?” Tate said. “What the hell is in California?”
“Los Angeles,” she said, a little defensiveness entering her tone. “And my job. A really cool job, actually, thanks for asking.”
Reality leaked in little by little, turning Rafe’s shock into a fiery mix of hurt, anger, and resignation. Everything she’d done with him, she’d done knowing she was leaving. Anything he’d believed was special between them had either been his imagination or her fabrication. She really had meant that she wanted to fuck him and forget him.
Rafe was still reeling with that revelation when Tate’s anger hit.
“Is this about Sam?” Tate demanded.
Sam must have been the ex-boyfriend’s name Rafe couldn’t remember. The one Tate had told Rafe she’d broken up with recently.
“Why would this have anything to do with Sam?” she asked with a scowl.
Tate sat forward again. “Because you were living with him, and it was his apartment. I told you not to move in with him. I told you to keep your own place. You know how hard it is to find apartments in New York.”
“Yes, Tate, I do. I lived there, not you, remember? And I told you I couldn’t afford to keep my own place.”
“Okay, now—” Joe started.
“And I told you I’d give you the money,” Tate spoke over him.
“And I told you I didn’t want your money.”
“Mia, honey—” Joe tried.
“You and Sam broke up,” Tate said with that I know everything tone, “and you didn’t have anywhere to live. That’s why you’ve been couch-hopping. That’s why you’re moving. I knew this would happen.”